


Cutting the Red Tape

by Trinket



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Fake Dating, M/M, Superbat Week 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:35:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25549069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trinket/pseuds/Trinket
Summary: Bruce Wayne, in order to cut through some red tape is in need of a relationship, but no one he currently knows seems suitable. That is until he bumps into someone who may be just the ticket.Written for Superbat Week 2020, Day 2 Prompt - Fake Dating.
Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 15
Kudos: 119





	Cutting the Red Tape

“We’re sorry, Mister Wayne, but you’re too much of a feckless playboy to qualify to adopt a child,” the CPS worker spoke from across the desk with his lawyers present. “No amount of money alone is going to make it so. You can get all the lawyers you want, but the fact remains, unless you settle down, your home and lifestyle are  _ unsuitable.” _

Bruce could  _ not _ believe what he was hearing. This was the twenty-first century! It would have been one thing if Gotham let Haly Circus and it’s large family become the guardians of Richard John Grayson. This however was too much. There had to be some way to turn the table.

This wasn’t even something Batman could handle. The foster care system was terrible and didn’t want to give people a chance. It was one of the drawbacks he now realized of his  _ Brucie _ persona.

“I am willing to accommodate changes in my life. I  _ know _ a child would change a great deal and as I’ve mentioned before, I have suffered in a similar way over the loss of my own parents. I’m willing to put in the work to make my home safe for young Mister Grayson.”

The woman pursued her lips. “I’d rather the boy go to a two parent household.”

Bruce knew what would happen. He hadn’t gone through it himself, but he’d done enough research to  _ know. _ Older kids that weren’t babies or toddlers had a more difficult time being placed. Sometimes they went from one foster home to the next. Became runaways. Some died. Some lives got ruined because of criminal elements. Either they’d end up on the street as pick pockets, or even more unsavory adults that shouldn’t even be considered human would take advantage of them. Abuse them in every manner. 

He hated to think of it. How many times had he had to step in as Batman to prevent some underage or barely legal individual from being treated like property and forced into a life of prostitution. Not that he was against the profession, as long as one knew what they were doing and all parties were willing and of sound mind.

Trying not to grimace as his mind went to dark places, Bruce closed his eyes. He took a breath and then glanced back at the woman. “What would I have to do so that I stood a better chance of adopting Richard John Grayson?” It irked him that she called him a boy. The kid had a name. Maybe she’d been working the job too long. Had become too jaded. Or maybe she was biased, because he was a single man. Perhaps she would have treated him the same way if he’d done everything right and wasn’t seen as Gotham’s feckless playboy.

“If you had a partner - someone with whom you were serious - then we’d consider you. As it stands, you, as a drunken wastrel, are undesirable. Raising a child takes a lot of hard work, Mister Wayne. There’s not time for all of the parties you attend.”

“You do realize most of those are charity events, right? For children’s hospitals, and other foundations started by my parents?”

She dipped her head. “Oh. I realize. However there are so many tales about your one-night stands, your drunken exploits. Children need not only love and discipline, but stability. And you, Mister Wayne, are not very stable at all.”

So, he needed a partner. No one came to his thoughts who’d be willing to help. Selina had left Gotham months ago. Talia was also out as she lived in Nanda Parbat, but also, well there were other circumstances that he didn’t want to get into there. Not that anyone knew about  _ her. _ Though they had seen him and Selina on and off.

“There is… actually someone I’m serious about,” it was a bald faced lie, but he was certain he had a good poker face. They shouldn’t be able to see past the charade. It was just another one he had to put on.

“And what about last week with the triplets?”

Bruce sighed. “I was trying to make my partner… jealous. Nothing happened,” other than him spilling champagne all over and having Alfred help him into the limousine with the triplets glaring at him as he left.

“Then why is your partner not here with you?” She arched a brow. Even his lawyers were staring at him with similar expressions.

He smiled at them, it was so difficult to smile around people like her. His face hurt from holding it so long, when he felt like doing anything  _ but. _ “My partner is good to their parents. I wish they were here, but I’m not about to end their time spent with family. However, I can arrange for you to meet them, if it would help.”

The woman frowned, her brows furrowed. 

One of his lawyers cleared their throat. It was the woman on the team and she stared at the CPS official. “As you have stated, previously, a two parent household, or at least someone in a stable relationship that could lead to it, is ideal. Once Mister Wayne has gotten ahold of his partner, we’ll call you back to set up an appointment. In the meantime, instead of keeping Mister Grayson in a group home, it would be better to allow him to stay at Wayne Manor. Temporarily.”

With a huff, the CPS woman stood up and held out her hand to shake his and the lawyers. “Very well. You have one week to get into contact with us. Mister Grayson can spend that week with you, but beyond that, may not be possible.”

He nodded. “Thank you, ma’am.” Once the handshakes were finished he turned on his heel and his team of lawyers followed.

Bruce found Alfred waiting in the Rolls Royce outside the building. He sank into the back of the car and waited for Alfred to shut his door and get into the driver's seat.

“I need to find someone willing to pretend to be my  _ serious _ significant other. It appears that is the only way I’m going to be able to adopt Dick.”

“I do wish you luck, Master Wayne. It is not as though you’ve pushed away all worthy partners.”  
  
  
Bruce cringed at Alfred’s tone. He’d had way fewer partners than the media had portrayed. Far less one-night stands than he’d deliberately mislead the media into believing. All for the mission. Of course this was one thing he’d not thought of and hadn’t had a contingency plan for. Wanting to  _ adopt. _ Now he’d burned his bridges, so he had to find someone fast. Someone honest, but who could still manage, somehow, to act as his significant other.

“Can your lawyers not help you, sir?”

“They didn’t seem to have a solution ready. It’s best that I have a partner so that it’s less likely I’ll be denied legal guardianship over Dick.”

He watched as the scenery passed. Building after building until they got to a more scenic route on the way to the Manor. Where trees stood tall and their branches hung low with flowers, or fruit. He watched petals fall from the Dogwood trees as a gentle breeze blew by.

All of a sudden, Alfred stopped the car.  
  
  
“Alfred? What’s going on?” He looked up front at the back of Alfred’s head.  
  
  
“There appears to be someone on the road in front of us. A body… and what appears to be a motorcycle.”  
  
  
Bruce unbuckled and opened the door. He ran to the side of the body, heart pounding. It took him a few breaths to get his heart rate back to baseline.  
  
  
He didn’t know what had caused the accident. No one else was around. The man could be dead. And he was certain it was a man.   
  
Lowering himself to his knees he placed two fingers at the pulse of the neck. And waited.

  
Then he felt it. “Alfred, he’s alive. Call an ambulance.”

  
“No,” groaned the body on the street, “no ambulances.”

  
Bruce flicked his gaze at Alfred who held a cellphone ready, but hadn’t yet dialed.

  
“We can’t just leave you here, Mister….”   
  


“Kent… Clark Kent.”

  
“So, he knows his name,” Alfred murmured.  


Bruce nodded and stared into eyes that seemed preternaturally shockingly blue. “How many fingers am I holding up?”   
  
  
“Three. Now Two. Now Four. Three again. None.”   
  
  
Bruce sighed. “Good. That’s good. Not good that you had an accident.”   
  
  
The man frowned. “It wasn’t an accident. I was being followed.”

  
Great. Now there was an attempted murder case to solve. Another mission in the chaos of a custody battle.

  
“Can you move?” Bruce asked.   
  
  
The man slowly got up, groaning and placed one hand to his head. “Yeah. I’m more winded than anything. I jumped off before they careened into the motorcycle. Guess my friend was right and someone’s been trying to kill them.”

  
“You’re not the target?” Bruce frowned.  
  
  
Kent shook his head. “No. The person who owns… owned the motorcycle was. They moved to Gotham to try and get away from whoever was doing it since their cities police haven’t done anything. I mean they’ve arrested five different people. Someone’s paying to have them assassinated.”   
  
  
“I could help.”   
  
  
Kent blinked. “What?”   
  
  
“I know some people on the GCPD. The ones that are trustworthy.”   
  
  
“Why would you help  _ me? _ You don’t even know me! I could be… be a serial killer for all you know!”   
  
  
Bruce glanced over him and quirked a brow. “Somehow, I don’t think so. I am surprised you’re not more hurt and scuffed up than you are.”   
  
  
“Just lucky with my timing.”   
  
  
Alfred cleared his throat. “Perhaps, Master Wayne, we should help Mister Kent up off the road and drive him to wherever it is he’s staying?”   
  
  
Bruce looked at the motorcycle then at Kent. He nodded. “Why don’t you come with us. Spend the night at my place. I’ll fetch your motorcycle after we get you into bed. Alfred will keep an eye on you.”   
  
  
“Uh… thanks. That’s too kind.”   
  
  
“Think nothing of it, Kent.”   
  
  
Kent nodded and then placed his hands in Bruce’s. He allowed him to help him up and walked him to the Rolls. Once he was inside, Bruce slid in and then Alfred too.   
  
  
“Is… is there anything I can do to repay your kindness?” The man with the midwestern twang asked.

  
Bruce shook his head. “No. I mean we couldn’t just leave you there on the road like that. Even though you survived, who knows if someone else might not have run you over, or worse.”   
  
  
Kent shuddered and sighed. “Thank you.”   
  
  
Alfred adjusted the rearview mirror. “Master Wayne, there is…  _ something _ you require. Perhaps your new friend might be of some assistance?”   
  
  
Kent cocked his head to one side. “What might that be, Mister Wayne?”

  
Bruce thought it over in his head. Calculated the risks. This was a stranger, but someone who was so loyal to their friend that they wished to help them. Even if it meant putting themself in danger. Noble, yes, but also foolhardy. Somehow Kent had managed to survive relatively unscathed. The same could not be said for the motorcycle that was half crushed, dented in other places, with pieces strewn across the road leading between the main city and Wayne Manor.

  
However, Bruce  _ did _ need a partner. Someone dedicated and thus far it seemed like Kent was at least a dedicated friend. Maybe it wasn’t only friendship however that had the other man helping out the owner of the motorcycle.

  
Bruce looked Kent over. He stared at his hands. They were bare where he imagined there should have been gloves to better grip the handles of the motorcycle. He didn’t see a ring. Not even a discrepancy between the skintone where a ring would have been and that of the rest of the fingers and hands.

  
Maybe it was possible. That he may have found a solution to his troubles in regard to adopting one Richard John Grayson. But there was also the possibility that this man might not help him. There was a chance he was also homophobic. The guy was a stranger to Bruce and Alfred both. Neither had seen him before and Bruce knew most, if not all of Gotham’s citizens. Including it’s new citizens who moved into the city - not that many did. 

  
More people were likely to leave the city in search of a safer place to raise their children. Or where there were better business opportunities whenever Wayne Enterprises didn’t have an opening. There were other businesses in Gotham, but even that well had run dry. There weren’t enough business opportunities to keep up with the population. Thus there was often an exodus. Of the elderly retiring to a warmer sunnier climate. Of the college bound setting off for Universities far off and newlyweds leaving to find a safer district to start a family. Not everyone left. Many still stuck it out, clinging to Gotham and calling it home. It was like a song in their blood. The city called to them, like a siren pulling them in, and under until they were drowning. Batman and those associated with him were the liferafts in a tumultuous sea, helping them back onto the oasis of sanity.

  
Keeping his breathing and heart rate even he managed a wan smile. “Well, I do have one  _ small _ problem.”   
  
  
“Oh?” Kent blinked. “What is it, if you don’t mind my asking?”   
  
  
Bruce shrugged. “I’m a bachelor you see.”

  
Kent’s brows furrowed. “How is that a problem?”

  
He leaned back in his seat, head against the backrest. “Normally it wouldn’t be. But there’s red tape involved this time. It’s the adoption process.”   
  
  
Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Kent perk up at that. “You’re trying to adopt?”   
  
  
Bruce nodded and sat back up, back ramrod straight. “Yes. There’s this kid. He’s only ten. His parents were... they were murdered in front of him. No one saw who it was, but the… the safety net was tampered with and so were the other parts of their show that were tampered with too. The tightrope. The hanging bars. They fell to their deaths. While their son stood waiting for his cue at the top.” He’d climbed up to help bring the kid down. Had wrapped his coat around the boy, who’d been too in shock to move. It was almost like he didn’t blink - until he did. And then Bruce had had an arm full of a trembling, sobbing child.

  
Kent’s eyes widened, and his mouth parted. His eyes even looked as if they shimmered and darkened in hue behind those glasses of his.

  
Bruce watched the stranger wipe a finger over his eyes beneath his glasses.

  
“I’m… I’m sorry.” Then Kent took a breath and composed himself to ask, “But, how can I help?”

  
Bruce wondered if he should tell him. If, maybe he shouldn’t ask this stranger what he was about to, at Alfred’s prodding. There had to be some other way than to have a serious partner in order to adopt. There was the possibility that the orphanage and CPS would frown upon two  _ men _ despite all of the progress that had been made. Of course if there did arise a problem there his team of lawyers could quickly put that to rights. So, he continued.

“CPS, because I’m a  _ ‘feckless playboy’ _ has decided I’m unsuitable. A great deal in part because of my public persona,” he hoped telling this man about that, even just a hint, wouldn’t somehow hinder his mission, “and because I’m single without a permanent partner they don’t want to agree to my adoption of the boy, Dick, which is what he likes to be called.”  
  
  
Kent frowned. “I don’t see how they could deny you. There are far worse people raising children.”

“True,” Alfred interjected from the driver’s seat in front of them, “Mister Kent, but those children are typically either the biological parents, or related to the children. And Master Wayne is often in the public eye and so scrutinized because of it.”   
  
Kent’s brows furrowed. “Oh. I still don’t see how I can help. Unless you want me to write about it in an article, how unjust it is to deny you the option to adopt because you’re single. Even if you are a playboy there are a lot of other people that are and manage just fine raising their children.”  
  
  
Bruce’s lips quirked into a small smile, if but for only a few brief seconds. “Thank you for the offer. I take it that means you’re a journalist?”  
  
  
He nodded. “Well, I work at the Daily Planet over in Metropolis.”   
Bruce worried about that. Most journalists didn’t have the integrity the muckrakers of old once had. Was this an honest man? Perhaps considering he’d gone out of his way to help a friend in need.  
  
  
“Well, I know we’ve only just met, Kent, but, and although I know this is in a way fraudulent, I need someone to pretend to be my partner. A long term significant other in order to adopt Dick.”

  
Kent blinked. Several times in succession. Then he pointed at himself. “You want me to  _ act _ as your boyfriend?”   
  
  
Bruce nodded.

  
“Are you even gay?”

  
“I think the term you are looking for is bisexual. You’re not… homophobic, are you?”

  
Kent tilted his head back and chuckled. “Oh, no. Not at all. Since we’re stating orientations here, I’m pansexual.”   
  
  
Bruce’s heart beat faster, but he closed his eyes and calmed himself. It had only been a short few moments. However he preferred his heart rate to keep to remain calm and steady.   
  
  
Upon reopening his eyes, Kent was staring at him with an intensity that felt as though it were heating him up. The man was  _ pretty, _ if one used such terms on a man. At least he had pretty eyes that were so blue, but he wondered what they looked like behind those glasses. He had to remind himself that this offer was for a fake relationship. That would benefit Bruce and the boy who had recently lost his parents as Bruce had once lost his.

  
Kent nodded. “Well, I don’t know how well I can pull it off, but, I’ll help you.”  
  


* * *

  
Clark didn’t know how he’d wound up in this situation. Well, he did. He had agreed to act as  _ Bruce Wayne’s _ long-term partner. It was certainly different from any of the undercover cases he’d taken on in Metropolis for the paper. But it meant a child would go to someone who actually  _ cared _ and that said child wouldn’t wind up in the foster care system, shipped from one foster to another. While he’d never had to deal with  _ that _ he had heard about it and seen it as his own eyes, the latter as Superman.

  
He hadn’t met Richard John Grayson yet, but he would after a couple of dates when Wayne…  _ Bruce _ next met with CPS, his lawyers at his back.

  
Clark just hoped that no emergencies came up during said meeting. Or any of these  _ so-called _ dates.

  
Outside his apartment in Metropolis, Bruce parked and waved to him, with a smile. He didn’t know if it was genuine, or just for show. Back in the bullpen of the Daily Planet he’d let slip that he was seeing someone from Gotham. 

  
Lois and Jimmy, both curious had tried to tail him. And while he could have lost them, he decided not to. He’d pretended he didn’t notice they were following him and ducking behind alley ways, hiding behind other people on the street.

  
Then, as Wayne held open a door for Clark, on the passenger side of the vehicle, he blinked at the flash of a camera lens. He chuckled, since his friends and colleagues were not all that subtle. 

  
“Hello, Clark,” Bruce took Clark’s hand as Clark sat down in the car and brushed his lips over the back of Clark’s knuckles.

  
Clark felt the heat rise to his face and knew his cheeks had to be red. When was the last time anyone had really paid attention to him like this? Too bad it was a sham.   
  
  
He really…  _ really _ shouldn’t think like that. It was just that Bruce Wayne was a very handsome man. Clark should not get attached to him. Nor should he be so shallow. He didn’t know Mister Wayne. Had never been interested in looking into the man. And now he wouldn’t be able to write anything about him either anyway, because they were for all intents and purposes, dating. Even if it was all fake.

  
“I-it’s good to see you, B-bruce,” he stumbled over his words. He hadn’t when he’d been found by Wayne and his butler, Alfred Pennyworth, but it was his facade. To hide behind the clumsy, stuttering, mild mannered reporter the truth, that he was Superman. It had been going well since he’d debuted six months ago. Although there was that thorn in his side,  _ Luthor. _

  
Instead of thinking about the unpleasantries, he ducked his head, lowered his lashes and pushed back his hair.

  
He heard Wayne’s sharp inhale. Then they were no longer holding hands. The door was shut and Wayne was in the driver’s seat while Jimmy continued taking photo after photo until they were gone and headed for the airport. That Wayne had a helicopter landed that would take them over to Gotham for their date.

  
Wayne landed on one of the buildings the multi-billionaire owned going by the symbol on the landing pad.

  
“Are you alright, Kent…  _ Clark?” _   
  
  
Of course it was better to use their first names, but since they were practically strangers it was proving a little bit difficult. To remember to call each other their given names.

  
“I’m f-fine.”   
  
  
“Why are you stuttering?”   
  
  
“I-it’s what I do,” Clark replied, “I-is it g-going to be a pro-problem?”

  
Wayne sighed. “No. I don’t think so. Plenty of people have health issues.”

  
“Thank you…  _ Bruce.” _ He had waited a moment to speak his name. Otherwise he would have called him Wayne as he did in his head. Perhaps he should start calling him Bruce there too. Then he’d be less apt to forget to call the handsome prince of Gotham the wrong part of his name.

  
Once out of the helicopter, Bruce lead Clark to the elevator that went all the way up to the roof where they’d wound up. 

  
“So, are you ready for your narrative, Clark?”   
  
  
“We-well, I nev-never did come ou-out.” Not to anyone but his Ma and Pa when he’d been attracted to several different men. Although none of those had panned out. He’d been with Lana, but that hadn’t worked. After her there had been no long-term relationships. Sure there had been a date or three here and there, but nothing had stuck. And since debuting as Superman he hadn’t attempted it. There had been moments where he’d thought maybe Lois Lane. And then Richard White had shown up to sweep her off her feet.

  
Now, here he was, dating Bruce Wayne. Maybe he should have called home to tell his parents. Except while his Ma might be concerned for a moment she’d stand by his decision whether she knew it was fake or not. His Pa on the other hand wasn’t too fond of rich businessmen. All thanks to Lionel Luthor, and William Clark. Not to mention the owners of their bank.

  
Bruce hummed. “You  _ don’t _ have to do this, Clark.”

  
“But if I don’t, you might not get to adopt Dick,” he hadn’t met the boy yet, but Bruce had told him so much about him. And Clark had read the papers about the Flying Grayson's. And there went his stutter again, disappearing on him. He really needed to be more careful.

  
Bruce’s brows raised. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, sweetheart, about coming out.”

  
Just then the elevator opened to a floor full of people. And reporters from Gotham Gazette and their news channels.

  
Clark felt his face warm and ducked his head. Turned his face into Bruce’s shoulder. They were the same height, but he still managed to lower his head and hide. It was part of the narrative, but he still wanted to hide. 

  
He was glad he didn’t have these problems when donning the Kryptonian suit while out saving lives and helping people and animals. How could he date anyone and hide a part of who he was, he didn’t know. But, here, he didn’t have to worry. He shouldn’t. Since it was all an act.

  
There were bulb flashes as soon as the doors of the elevator had opened. Handheld recorders, or cellphones recording to capture both sound bytes and video. Not everyone was a reporter, some were just people too enamored with social media. No matter the socioeconomic status people loved their technology. Unless they were well and truly old-fashioned and resisted change like a wild stallion one was trying to tame.

  
Bruce took hold of his chin and lifted his head and smiled. “It’s okay Clark. I’ll protect you.”

  
The people milling around laughed at that one.

  
Clark chuckled. “Th-there’s no… no need  _ Bruce.” _ He could easily take care of himself. He stood, though still slouched forward a bit in his gala suit that Bruce had insisted he buy for him to wear. Slouching was a part of his own public image after all. He lifted a hand to wave, “He-hello.”

  
Bruce wrapped an arm around his waist. “Ladies and gentleman, I’d like to introduce you to my partner here. Clark.”

  
“Clark Kent. Daily Planet.” He held out his hand to greet the nearest person. Those were words he didn’t need to stumble over. But he still didn’t want to give too tight a handshake either. He worried about giving his identity away to anyone. Not after all his Ma, and mostly his Pa had instilled in him.

  
There were many who shook his hand. Some of them grimaced after doing so. Some just nodded without touching him. That was  _ okay. _ Not great, but okay. Or so he told himself. Maybe it was because they could hear the midwestern accent, or they were germaphobes, or and he hated to think it, they could have been homophobes too. Not in a way that was easy to tell, because there could be many reasons not to physically touch someone even just a handshake.

  
Clark did not like the attention as Bruce led him around the room, introducing him to yet more and more people. Always with a proprietary hand either at his waist, the small of his back, clasped on his shoulder, or at his elbow.

  
Then Bruce had two drinks in hand. He handed one to Clark. His a golden champagne, but focusing on Bruce’s glass the smell of it was ginger ale. A soda. It looked just enough like what was in Clark’s hand to fool others. But they didn’t have Clark’s senses.

  
Clark nursed his cup. He didn’t often take a sip and people were starting to stare at him even more.

  
Bruce took notice. “Don’t worry about them, Clark. They just think this feckless drunken playboy wrastral is taking advantage of you. Or that you’re waiting for me to get drunk.”

  
Clark nearly spat out the sip he’d just taken. Shaking his head he sighed. “I’d never do something like that.” Although he had almost been taken advantage of himself when he’d been  _ high _ on red kryptonite. Thank goodness his parents had come to his rescue, even though they hated to carry around the green stuff.

  
Some woman with full red lips smiled at him and asked. “So, you’re a Metropolis boy.”

  
“Uh…” he didn’t know what to say.

  
Bruce squeezed his shoulder and smiled. “That he is. Or has been for the past months since moving from Kansas. When I learned he’d moved from home to right next door to Gotham I knew I had to pay him a visit.”

  
Well, Bruce had been in Metropolis during an event for Wayne Enterprises around the time Clark had moved to the Big Apricot. 

  
“Have you met….  _ Superman?” _ They asked, excitement in their tone.

  
Clark blinked. He didn’t want to lie, but he certainly couldn’t tell the truth. “Su-sure. I’ve me-met Superman. Kin-kind of hard no-not to when y-you live in th-the city he wa-watches over.”

  
Beside him, Bruce stiffened.

  
The other person continued. “Well, Brucie here doesn’t care much for Superman. Apparently he thinks he’s going to turn on us.”

  
Clark turned his head, eyes wide behind his glasses. “You th-think he wo-would?”

  
Bruce shrugged and took a sip of his drink before answering. “Who am I to say what that alien thinks? What reason does he have for helping us when he wasn’t born and raised here? No one  _ knows _ him. What if he’s waiting to turn us into mindless slaves, or worse?”

  
Clark winced. “I… I don’t th-think he-he’d do th-that.”

  
“Darling, I love you,” there were shocked gasps by people around them that had heard, “but I worry about your naivety.” Bruce moved his hand to brush Clark’s hair back.

  
Clark knew there would be people with worries. Too bad one of those people was Bruce Wayne. Whom had helped him and whom he was currently helping. Maybe it was a good thing all of this was a sham. Even though Bruce’s hand felt so warm and right on his person.

  
He ducked his head, to hide his worry and smiled, “Yeah, well Ma and Pa always told me, hope for the best even when expecting’ the worst.”

  
Bruce glanced around the room before responding, “I’ll… try to keep that in mind.”

  
Clark felt Bruce’s lips brush his cheek before he led him to a table when the dinner gong rang.  
  


* * *

  
After a single dance with Clark and everyone watching, the evening had come to an end. And Bruce felt regret. That it was over and that he had to take Clark home. That it wasn’t  _ real. _ Their entire new relationship was all based on a lie, to tell the media, the world, the adoption agency and the CPS woman that he could change his ways.

  
So, there he stood outside Clark’s apartment complex.

  
Clark grinned. “I… I had a g-good t-time, Bruce.”

  
“I’m glad,” there were still people following them around. Listening. Waiting. It had only been  _ one date _ , but they’d planned it for a week. Each had the others picture in their phones, set as the background. Just in case anyone saw.

  
Then, without thinking, as it wasn’t part of the plan, he leaned forward. Clark seemed to move too. Their lips met. Brief as the flutter of a butterflies wing as it passed on by.

  
Clark pulled back, face flushed.

  
Bruce blinked. “Sorry.”

  
Clark shook his head. “Did… did you wa-want to come up f-for coffee?”

  
Maybe this was still a part of the sham. Clark was just taking it a step farther.

  
“Darling, I don’t want to take advantage of you. With your old midwestern sensibilities, I should wait until I can get a ring on that finger,” he winked with a lecherous grin.

  
Clark’s eyes widened and his face was redder than he’d ever seen. “Oh…”

  
Besides, Bruce had to get back to Gotham. It was getting about time that he should be out there boots on the ground as Batman. He’d already gotten a lead on who might be after Clark’s motorcycle friend. If it panned out, then at least he’d have done something for Clark, or well, Clark’s friend.

  
He took hold of both of Clark’s hands and pressed a kiss to the back of each. “I’ll miss you. You should think about moving to Gotham.”

  
Before Clark could say anything he placed a finger over his lips. “Just think about it, please, Clark?”   
  
  
When he backed away, Clark stood there cocking his head. “If y-you get th-that ring, I mi-might just ha-have to, Bruce,” and then he was inside behind closed doors.

  
Bruce sighed and turned around to head to the building where he’d left the helicopter on a helipad.  
  


* * *

  
Clark -  _ Superman _ was so, so weary. He’d put out a large forest fire, saved two kittens stuck up in a tree, a bag of puppies from the river, and stopped a grizzly from tearing apart a wildlife biologist out in Yellowstone. There had already been one man lost to the wilds there who’d been a grizzly bear enthusiast. And then he’d had to stop a robot with a bomb inside it. Which had it gone off would have made some green mineral airborne. That one he firmly placed at Luthor’s door even with that whole plausible deniability schtick.

  
Still, there had been a little bit of green kryptonite dust that got onto part of his suit. He felt sick, weak, and flew low. So low he almost ran into one of the buildings in Gotham. He landed on the roof of a shorter building, breath coming in as gasps.

  
He had to get the suit off. Decontaminate it, but he was so - so tired.

  
Superman was determined not to close his eyes.

  
Looking down from the building, his mouth parted more at the sight of a shadowy figure coming into dim light.  _ Batman. _ Holding onto someone with a bloody nose. They must have fought. Superman didn’t agree with the violence, but Batman got his job done. He didn’t kill. And then the police were there. A Commissioner Gordon taking in the criminal.

  
“Good work,” Gordon said as he read the criminal their rights. “Did you get any intel this time?”

  
Batman nodded. “Yes. This one squealed.”

  
“We have the name of the person paying for these assassination attempts on Wayne’s partners friend?”

  
Superman’s brows furrowed. Was Batman helping Wayne find the person trying to off Clark’s friend? Well, maybe Batman wasn’t as frightening as he’d been led to believe. Not that he was afraid of Batman, but he still had some respect.  _ Wary _ respect.

  
When Gordon disappeared, Superman coughed. A few drops of blood on his hand.

  
Not a good idea. Except he couldn’t hold it in and he couldn’t move. Could no longer fly. It was so small an amount but with longer exposure, he was now vulnerable. In Gotham. And Batman had heard him.

  
He heard the whoosh and then a clink of metal. Saw the grapple hook. Watched as Batman scaled the building and leaped onto the roof.

  
From where he was hands and knees on the ground, he watched him.

  
“Thought you were invulnerable,” the man behind the cowl sneered.

  
Superman shook his head, “Not if kryptonite or magic is involved.” They were both bad.

  
“Is that your blood?” Batman squatted in front of him and took out a cotton swab and something to hold it in. Wiped it up.

  
“Hey, I don’t go around taking samples of  _ your _ blood.” His voice hurt, and sounded scratchy. His heart rate picked up as all the horrors of those alien shows and movies dissecting aliens came back to haunt him.

  
“How else am I supposed to treat you when you’re hurt? I need to know about your physiology.”

  
“Sorry, not interested in being an experiment, or dissected.”

  
Batman’s lips thinned. “And yet you come from whatever planet you left, to help us.”

  
“My parents - the ones that adopted me, taught me good values.”

  
“They're human?”

  
“Yes.” Of course he wouldn’t give away their names. He didn’t know Batman and what kind of person he was behind the mask. While he believed Batman wouldn’t try and harm his family, that wasn’t information one just gave away upon the first meeting. Cape and cowl, or not.

  
“So, you grew up here.”

  
Superman nodded.

  
“Where is this kryptonite?”

  
He groaned. “It’s dust from the robot bomb I took out in Metropolis that decided to fly itself over this way.” At least he’d landed it in some water. Which had helped.

  
Batman glanced him over and pointed to his chest and down over his abdomen to his red speedo that was part of the Kryptonian suit.

  
Superman felt his face turning beet red. If only he was better able to control it. Then again there was  _ kryptonite _ involved.

  
Batman’s jaw dropped. “ _ Clark!?” _   
  
  
Superman stilled. “How?” He shook his head. “N-no. You must be mistaken. Even I must have some doppelgangers among the masses.”

  
Batman was quiet for a moment and then he was lifting Superman up off the ground. Into his arms as if Superman was  _ light. _ It just meant Batman was that strong. For a human. And Superman had to close his eyes and pray for his boner to go away.

  
He couldn’t get involved with Batman. He didn’t know who he was, even if he’d sussed out Superman’s secret. Besides he was helping Bruce and he was attracted to  _ him. _ Of course that was all fake. He cursed himself for getting attached so quickly. It made him wonder if Kryptonians just fell so easily compared to humans. Or if it was just a little crush and nothing more. It sure didn’t feel like just a crush though.

  
Superman felt Batman slip him into a car. He opened his eyes and looked around. “Is this?”

  
“It’s my car. It still needs a bit of work before it's fully ready, but tonight was a test run.”

  
“Oh.”

  
He closed his eyes again and must have fallen unconscious, because the next he opened his eyes they were in a dark cave. Then there were lights ahead inside the cave. Where Batman parked his car. It looked more like a tank in some ways, but not quite a tank. Just had those elements. And one way windows. 

  
He tried to move but as soon as he got his door open and stepped out, he fell to his knees. Clark,  _ Superman _ hated feeling so vulnerable. Especially in front of a stranger. They might have heard about each other, but they’d not really interacted. 

  
“How do I get this off of you?”

  
Superman indicated the places the top and the bottom of the suit met. Then Batman pulled off his shirt followed by his boots and then his tights and codpiece.

  
Once naked, he blushed and glanced away from Batman.

  
“I’ll just have these put in the washer. Will that hurt them?”

  
“No. They’ll be fine.”

  
“I have a robe you can borrow. Should be about your size.”

  
Superman thought so too, they had a similar build. Yet where Superman had been given his physique thanks to the yellow sun - and maybe growing up on a farm, Batman’s was due to hard work and training. There was no other way considering he was human and could be hurt.

  
It wasn’t long before Batman returned with a towel and a robe. “There’s a shower in that corner. You may want to take one in case the Kryptonite got into your hair.”

  
Superman was already feeling better, if not completely and smiled. “Thanks, Batman.”  
  


* * *

  
Batman,  _ Bruce _ , could not believe it. He’d been dating Superman. Sure it was a farce that old fashioned values and discrimination against single parents and men may have played a part in the adoption process, but it wasn’t any less shocking.

  
Now he had another contingency plan if Superman went rogue. Or if someone found a way to control him. But Superman was… he was a mild mannered reporter and warm sunny Clark J. Kent. Willing to go the extra mile for those he considered friends and family. Even for a stranger. Someone like Bruce Wayne,  _ Brucie. _ For a child he didn’t know, Richard John Grayson -  _ Dick. _

  
But it was still a risk to reveal himself. It could backfire. Maybe if they’d been in a real relationship he’d have let him in on his secret after discovering his.

  
He had to refrain from watching Clark…  _ Superman _ in the shower. That would be a gross violation of privacy. It was strange the dichotomy between Clark and Superman. Superman seemed friendly, if a bit too arrogant in some ways. The way he held himself. Acted far too confidently. And then Clark who was shy, a bit clumsy. How much of it was an act and how much was the real man?

  
There was a moment he contemplated calling off their sham of a relationship, but he had no one else with any believable narrative now and he had to adopt Dick. The following afternoon Clark was supposed to stop by the manor and put on a united front when CPS and the lawyers came by to drop Dick off for a trial foster. They were fine with Bruce temporarily taking care of the  _ poor orphan, _ but not so much as a permanent guardian in his life. Not without drastic changes. And apparently not without a partner.

  
Superman stepped out of the shower. Quickly dried himself off without the use of the towel.  _ Of course. _ He must be feeling better, Batman speculated. He also watched him don the robe. One of Bruce’s silk ones and he just looked  _ so right. _

  
Before he could stop the thought, he asked, “How do you feel about coffee?”

  
“I… like coffee?” Superman's eyes narrowed. “Why?”

  
Maybe that wasn’t the best question. “Dinner and a movie?”

  
The Kryptonian blinked. “What? Batman, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you were asking me out on a date.”

  
“If I am?”

  
Superman scratched the back of his neck. “Well, I’m kind of… already in a relationship.”

  
“Oh.”

  
“It’s fake, but I kind of wish it wasn’t,” he sighed.

  
Here was an opportunity. “Who is it?”

  
Superman shook his head. “I don’t want this information getting back so I can’t say.”

  
“It’s Wayne, isn’t it?”

  
Superman eyed him over. “Do you have powers no one knows about?”

  
“No.” It just meant his deduction was accurate, the more the other man questioned.

  
“So, you’re not like, psychic or telepathic?”

  
Batman growled. “No.”

  
“Are you going to tattle?”

  
He almost laughed at the question. More so the word use. “That is Wayne’s business. I know how difficult some people and organizations can be. He’s doing nothing illegal, as far as I’m aware and if Superman is helping him, who am I to stand in his way?”

  
Superman grinned. His eyes sparkled a vibrant shimmering blue. Now Batman knew what he looked like without those glasses and wanted to keep the knowledge for himself.

  
Batman had to know.  _ Bruce had to know. _ “Why do you like Bruce Wayne?”

  
“He has a good heart. Not everyone would be willing to take in and raise a child not their own or part of their family already in some way. Sometimes even a family member won’t take in the orphaned child of another family member. And he drinks ginger ale instead of alcohol.”

  
Behind the cowl his eyes narrowed. “How do you know that?”

  
Superman pursued his lips. It seemed he wasn’t about to reveal that. He’d think it good of him if he weren’t so curious, and Bruce Wayne himself.

  
“What if it wasn’t fake? Wayne would never leave Gotham.”

  
“Well, it’s not like I can’t live anywhere in the world without getting where I need to be. Except I’d have to tell him and he’s still relatively a stranger even though…”

  
“You want him?”

  
Superman nodded. “He doesn’t like Superman so if he finds out… he might not be too happy.”

  
Well, there was that. But he hadn’t known Clark at the time. And what little he’d known had almost been enough. Then he’d had a full dossier on him. He’d even told Clark since there was a child involved and they were strangers.

  
“What if he didn’t mind and wanted to date you for real?”

  
“I’d think I’d managed to die and gone to heaven, or something.”

  
Batman didn't like the thought of that. Bruce didn’t want Clark to get hurt. He didn’t want Superman to die. If Superman was as genuine as Clark, and as they were the same person that had to be the case.

  
Lifting his hands he unclasped what kept his cowl connected and lifted it. He noticed as Clark's…  _ Superman's _ eyes grew wide and his jaw dropped.

  
“Do you want to go on a real date, after you meet Dick?”

  
“I, uh….  _ Bruce!?” _

  
Bruce nodded, cowl in his hands, and still wearing the suit.

  
Superman, moved his fingers through his hair. Removed the signature s-curl. He looked more like Clark, but without the glasses and the ill-fitting clothes.

  
Clark sat down on the office chair in front of the computer system.

  
“You… you’re Batman.”

  
“Yes.”

  
“And… and you wa-want to date  _ me? _ E-even though I’m Superman?”

  
“Yes. I didn’t know you before. I know you now. And I can’t deny there is chemistry between us. Of course this might be difficult with our missions.”

  
Clark nodded. His face flushed. Even Bruce felt as if his own face had to be a little bit red.

  
They were both quiet. Until Clark stood up and walked up to him. Stood right in front of him. Placed his hands on the Kevlar shoulders of Bruce’s Batsuit.

  
“If you’re wi-willing to give me a ch-chance, Bruce, th-then yes, I’d like to date you. F-for real.”

  
“You do realize, that means you might wind up as Dick’s other parent, right?”

  
Clark smiled. “I d-don’t mind. I ha-haven’t met him y-yet, but I think w-we’ll both do j-just fine.”

  
The two of them leaned in. The kiss was nothing like that fleeting one.

  
Bruce’s tongue darted into Clark’s mouth. Rolled around Clark’s tongue. One of Bruce’s hands moved around to Clark’s back and down to squeeze one of Clark’s ass cheeks through the silk robe.

  
Clark’s lashes fluttered closed as he groaned against Bruce’s mouth. Then he took a step back. “You’ve g-got too much on.”

  
Before either of them could continue that vein of thought, another voice spoke.

  
“Pardon me, Master Bruce, Mister Kent, but I thought you might like to know that they’ve found and captured the person paying to have your friend assassinated, Mister Kent.”

  
Clark backed away from Bruce’s arms, red from his toes to his ears. “Ah… th-thank you, M-Mister Pennyworth.”

  
“Alfred, please. And I am so very glad that Master Bruce has finally found someone. I had given up hope that he might one day find someone to share his life with.”

  
Bruce rolled his eyes. “Alfred!”  
  
  
“You both should also get some rest. Someone at the office of that awful woman has alerted me that they’ll be here early in the morning instead of the afternoon. They were hoping to surprise you unawares and catch you at something they deemed improper.”

  
Bruce and Clark frowned. Then Bruce asked, “Would you like to spend the night, Clark? We won’t be able to continue what we were doing.”

  
“Th-that’s fine, Bruce. Y-your future son c-comes first.”

  
Alfred’s brows raised, for just a moment. Then he turned before either could see the small smile at the corner of his mouth.

  
Bruce blinked. “My son… I like that. He’ll be your son too, if… if we work out.”

  
“I’m hoping for the best.” Clark rubbed his cheek against one of Bruce’s. They only left the cave once Bruce was out of the suit, taken his own shower, and had a towel tied around his waist. His personal life was looking up, even if his mission continued onward and forward. But maybe he really didn’t have to be so alone, with just Alfred.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this! I'd love to know which part you might have enjoyed the most.
> 
> Please join as at the [Batsupes Community Discord Server](https://discord.com/invite/3fBFAc8)


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